


cubic zirconia to cardinal gem

by dexstarr



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexstarr/pseuds/dexstarr
Summary: "If that does not interest you, perhaps this will: I was Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s psychiatrist."Bedelia Du Maurier offers Clarice Starling a sympathetic ear when her career stalls.





	cubic zirconia to cardinal gem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caissa/gifts).



> This is set in a mix between Fuller and Harris's universes.

**one.  
**

_Dear Clarice,_

_Please forgive my informalities. A mutual acquaintance has asked me to speak with you. He fears the plateauing of your career is distressing to you and believes I will be able to offer guidance, or a sympathetic ear._

_If that does not interest you, perhaps this will: I was Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s psychiatrist._

_Bedelia Du Maurier_

 

_*_

 

_Hannibal,_

_She’s so hungry for justice and to do what’s right. Her earnestness is as delightful as it is improbable._

_How long do you think that will last in the morass of the FBI? My bet is … seven years._

_Your move._

_B._

 

_*          * _*__

 

**two.**

The second time Clarice sees Dr. Du Maurier, she knows she will never feel prepared to match wits with her. Beyond the knowledge that she was Hannibal’s psychiatrist, Dr. Du Maurier is the type of woman Clarice has always felt uncomfortable around. Sitting across from her easy elegance, Clarice feels even more like the rube Hannibal pegged her as: a cheap ruby from the South.

She has one advantage: she _knows_ better now.

(Her shoes have improved.)

Dr. Du Maurier checks her simple and dreadfully expensive watch. If Clarice wasn’t watching, she would’ve missed the subtle rotation of her wrist, the flick of her eyes. “I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?”

Surprised by the boldness of her statement, Clarice is shocked into admitting the truth. “Yes.”

“Let’s work on that.”

 

*

 

… _she’s hungry for attention, Hannibal. Good attention, not the careless type her superiors show her now. If they show her any at all. My contacts have told me she’s tossed to any assignment that needs an extra body, especially one with a steady hand._

_I stand by my estimation of seven years: she still believes in the FBI, in the agency’s goodness. That she will succeed because of her abilities instead of playing politics._

_Her early success is a detriment. She’s slowly realizing catching Gumb is part of why they hold her back. But she doesn’t realize they’ll throw her promise away every chance they get._

_So many men cannot bear to be bested by women._

_Perhaps you should teach those men the error of their ways while I work with her._

_B._

 

 _*          * _*__  

 

**three.  
**

Their appointments settle into an easy pattern. One appointment every two weeks, Thursdays at seven o’clock. Clarice takes small pleasure in the noise her Mustang makes rumbling up the street and parking in the doctor’s driveway. But her car doesn’t disturb anyone, unlike at home. The houses are far apart in this neighborhood, a sign of Dr. Du Maurier’s prosperity or wealthy background, or both.

The tasteful yet bland office in Bedelia’s home is more pleasant than Chilton’s. There are no framed diplomas on the walls or a desk full of photographs to surprise visitors. Here is a woman who doesn’t need to brag.

As the weeks roll onward, their chairs seem to come closer together, as if invisible magnets are pulling the two women into a tighter orbit.

Bedelia, however, is far from easy. Talking with her is the same verbal minefield as talking with Hannibal. Sometimes Clarice wonders if Bedelia taught Hannibal, if Hannibal taught Bedelia, or if they pushed each other to planes where most mortals couldn’t follow.

After spending too many days at this agency or in that department, listening to random chitchat, Clarice enjoys the mental stimulation. Talking with Bedelia is a challenge—even, no, _especially_ when they talk about nothing at all.

It turns out that small talk in the presence of someone with a brain is much better than enduring it to be polite.

The night before every appointment, Clarice preps herself, reminds herself that she wants to learn more about the relationship between Bedelia and Hannibal. If the relationship still exists, can she use it to find him?

Her intentions skitter away every time Bedelia invites her inside. But two months in, Clarice finally does the unthinkable and sets her manners aside. “How long have you known Dr. Lecter?” she asks while they’re still in the foyer.

“A very long time.”

“How long is that?”

Bedelia looks amused. “Before he started his practice here.”

That was more than a decade ago; Hannibal has had his hooks in her for “a very long time.” Clarice searched his file for mentions of her but there weren’t any, as if the file had been scrubbed clean. Clearly it had been, because every other person who had the merest brush with Hannibal Lecter had a profile inside his drawer in Crawford’s archives.

“You can ask Jack Crawford to answer any additional questions you have about my _relationship_ with Dr. Lecter.” Clarice notes the way Bedelia’s tongue curls around the word, almost rolling the ‘r’ as if she’s speaking French.

 

*

 

“Who is Bedelia Du Maurier?”

Jack Crawford’s head turns sharply at her question. “What are you doing with her?”

“Who is she, Jack?” Two years ago Clarice never would have used his first name, but she’s grown weary of politics since taking the oath. Not having to pretend around him is a valuable respite.

“One of Lecter’s victims.” Jack scrubs tiredly at his eyes. There’s another serial killer on the loose. There always is. They both know he could use her help, but he doesn’t have enough juice to have her reassigned to his unit. “But not in the usual sense. He … persuaded her to kill a violent patient. A patient he referred to her.”

 

*

 

_I won’t boast, Hannibal, as that would be uncouth, but she’s wonderfully attentive once you slip behind her walls._

_The only question now—will she sing for you? Or for me?_

 

_*          * _*__

 

**four.  
**

“Did you know what Hannibal was doing to you, Dr. Du Maurier?”

Bedelia sits down across from her, one slim knee over the other. “Some of it.” She shrugs a delicate shoulder. “I thought I could rise above his influence, but I was wrong.” Her gaze focuses on Clarice, as steady and bold as a laser sight. “You are under his influence already.”

Clarice shakes her head despite the pinprick of danger in her stomach. “No. All I did was talk with him.”

“You shared personal information with him, did you not?” Bedelia is still looking at her; she hasn’t blinked. Her eyes are a shade of electric blue Clarice hasn’t been able to pinpoint, despite her efforts before falling asleep at night.

“Yes, but—”

Bedelia raises an elegant hand. “Hannibal is very good at what he does. You do not feel his influence until it is too late.” Her nose wrinkles very slightly, and then she smiles. “He uses and discards people. I fix them.”

Clarice shifts in her seat. Bedelia tracks her movements until she settles on the edge of the chair, hands clasped in front of her. “I can’t imagine you liked … _cleaning_ _up_ after him.”

“My first instinct has always been to crush broken birds, Cla _r_ ice Sta _r_ ling.” That rolling ‘r’ is back; Clarice’s breath comes a little faster as Bedelia continues. “I reject weakness. But I also know there’s beauty to be found in weakness, in conquering it and coming out stronger.”

Clarice rubs her cheek, where the gunpowder from her first kill still sits, a proud mark of her courage (and foolishness). She’s intrigued by Bedelia’s words, which is probably dangerous, given their content. “What do you mean?”

Bedelia rises and slides in front of Clarice, knees batting her hands out of the way so she can get closer. She shouldn’t be able to move so quickly, to catch Clarice, a trained FBI agent, off guard. But she’s mute and still in the face of the smaller woman. Clarice isn’t shocked, no—she can’t be shocked, she faced down a serial killer. “I mean, Clarice, that you’ve already been broken.” Bedelia’s fingertips flutter over her gunpowder badge, skin soft against hers. “Let me make you strong.”

Clarice catches Bedelia’s forearm, fingers braceleting her wrist like a cuff. “I am strong,” she says defiantly.

“You’re right.” Bedelia bows her head, blonde hair brushing against red. “You _are_. Yet with my help, you could be even stronger.”

Clarice isn’t a thrill seeker, so it’s not the danger lurking behind Bedelia’s offer that appeals to her. No, it’s the chance for respect, for dignity, for status. For the opportunity to succeed and be accepted, for the help in playing the game to climb the ranks again. “Quid pro quo?”

Bedelia’s fingers press under Clarice’s chin, tilting her head upwards. “I’d much rather have you.”

 

_*          * _*__

 

**five.  
**

_No more questions about your little starling anymore, Hannibal. She’s mine now, and you know I don’t share._

_I was wrong, but I do not mind admitting it. In this, I am pleased to be wrong. My new bet is three years before she gives up the bureau entirely._

_How is Italy this time of year? Send me a few ounces of tartufi bianchi from Marche, will you? It’s time to introduce her to the finer things._

_I’ll shine her from cubic zirconia to a cardinal gem._

_B._

**Author's Note:**

>  _Hannibal_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for [Femslash Ex 2017](https://femslashex.dreamwidth.org/) for [kmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmo/). ♥
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)


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